


A visible reminder

by Crazy_Dumpling



Category: Super Junior
Genre: Bruises, Community: kink_bingo, Fluff, Injury, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-24
Updated: 2011-08-24
Packaged: 2017-10-23 00:48:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/244415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crazy_Dumpling/pseuds/Crazy_Dumpling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hyukjae has a problem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A visible reminder

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 'body alteration/injury' square on my kink_bingo card. More fluffy than outright kinky.

Hyukjae has a problem. Not a very serious one, like running out of money, or getting into trouble with management and being kicked out of the group. Either of those would be a disaster. But it’s a problem that does keep him up at night, though not all the time. Just enough that the makeup artists that travel with the group tut and complain when they have to cover up the dark circles underneath his eyes. It hasn’t been a regular thing, not until a few days ago.

The problem is, and Hyukjae has to be honest with himself here, is that lately, he’s been afraid he’s been hurting Sungmin. Not emotionally, because he would never allow himself to do anything of the sort, but… Well.

It’s like this; Sungmin is all wonderfully soft curves and gorgeous smooth skin that Hyukjae can’t stop touching, especially when they’re alone and Sungmin is arching up against him and moaning his name in a breathy whisper that drives Hyukjae absolutely mad with desire. Sometimes it’s all Hyukjae can do to just get through a dance practice without dragging Sungmin into some convenient bathroom stall, just so he can watch the way Sungmin bites his lip right before he comes, his fingers holding onto Hyukjae’s shoulders like he’s hanging on for dear life.

But (because there is always a but), Hyukjae is the opposite of Sungmin’s graceful beauty. He’s all skinny legs and arms that stick out at sharp angles, ready to injure the unwary. Hyukjae thinks that if he wasn’t careful, he could hurt Sungmin so easily, and mar the perfection of his lover’s body. Already, he’s left more marks on Sungmin’s body with both teeth and fingers than he’d care to remember. Hyukjae’s never been able to stop feeling guilty each time he sees the marks he leaves behind on Sungmin’s skin; red circles and crescents that spoil the unbroken beauty of Sungmin’s smooth skin.

Hyukjae knows what he’s doing, of course, and wishes he could stop. But every time he licks a line up Sungmin’s inner thigh, or when Sungmin is riding him with his thighs braced tightly against Hyukjae’s waist, it’s hard not to bite down, or dig his fingers in too deep. And the squeal Sungmin makes when Hyukjae does so only adds to the headiness of it all. Only he is allowed to take such liberties with Sungmin’s body, which he normally treats like a temple, undergoing punishing workout regimes and strict diets to ensure it stays in perfect condition.

So that’s why it’s even more important that Hyukjae stops spoiling Sungmin’s efforts, and tries to control himself instead.

As Sungmin tugs his jeans off and reaches for Hyukjae eagerly, he reveals a fading bite mark and Hyukjae feels a punch of guilt in his belly. He remembers leaving it two nights ago, after they’d both drunk a bit too much soju and fell into bed together in a mess of tangled limbs, clothes tossed haphazardly to the floor. Hyukjae can recall little else, apart from the fact that he ended up gripping the headboard of his bed much too tightly, because his fingers ached in the morning, and that Sungmin ended up beneath him groaning the most exquisite vulgarities as Hyukjae fucked him into the mattress, the both of them too drunk to worry about the noise they made and too desperate to possess to care about niceties like not leaving visible marks on each other’s skin.

But in the light of his bedside table lamp, Hyukjae can see how the bruise is only fading now, coloured an ugly shade of yellowish brown. The mark is just above the jut of Sungmin’s hip, somewhere Hyukjae has never really allowed himself to sink his teeth before, too afraid that Sungmin’s shirt would lift up at some inopportune moment and set off a flurry of news stories about Sungmin’s mystery lover, and that somebody, somewhere would discover their secret, the thought of which makes Hyukjae’s stomach twist with a sudden panic. Alcohol and desire, however, had obviously managed to override Hyukjae’s common sense on this occasion, and now he can’t stop staring in disbelief at his drunken boldness.

Horribly beautiful, the mark stands in stark contrast to the otherwise pristine paleness of the rest of Sungmin; a blemish that shows off the perfection of its surroundings. Hyukjae allows Sungmin to push his t-shirt over his head, his eye not moving from his lover’s hip. He kicks off the rest of his clothes and pushes Sungmin back onto his bed, lowers his lips to the mark and kisses it very softly, prompting a soft hiss.

“Does that hurt?” He asks, worried. Sungmin shakes his head, makes to reach for him, but Hyukjae pulls back, and bats Sungmin’s grasping hands away. He kisses the mark again, then slowly traces the outline of it with his tongue. He repeats the gesture, and Sungmin is muttering something about him being impossible, but Hyukjae can’t hear him properly. Though he knows it’s silly, Hyukjae wants to do as much as he can to make the bite mark — such an obvious claim of ownership (and really, who _could_ ever hope to own Lee Sungmin?) — disappear as soon as possible. Sungmin shouldn’t have to put up with the crass manners of his lover.

So he kisses and licks. Licks and kisses the mark he left behind. Tries to tell himself he’s trying to erase it, that he’s definitely not retracing the contours of it over and over again. His mark on Sungmin’s skin. Not anyone else’s; just the imprint of his teeth branding Sungmin’s hip. The thought of it sends a dark thrill of lust through Hyukjae’s veins.

“Hyukkie-ah, are you trying to kill me?” Sungmin’s voice is low, laced with want, and Hyukjae knows that if he looks up now, the look in Sungmin’s eyes will undo him completely. “Come up here and kiss me properly, Hyukkie.”

Oh, God.

It takes all of Hyukjae’s self-control not to sidle up Sungmin’s body straight away. Instead, he keeps pressing kisses to the bruise, trying to ignore the way Sungmin shifts and sighs and scolds. Then, as carefully as he can, Hyukjae nips lightly at the skin underneath his lips. This rewards him with a loud groan, and then Sungmin is arching up, whining, and there are fingers clutching at his shoulders as Hyukjae circles the bite mark with his tongue again. He doesn’t touch the bruised skin, simply licks around it, and now Sungmin’s sharp fingernails are leaving marks of their own on his shoulders as Hyukjae rebrands Sungmin’s skin with lips and tongue.

Hyukjae looks up and catches Sungmin biting down on his bottom lip, cheeks flushed and his cock rising proud as his hips move with a stuttering rhythm in response to Hyukjae’s ministrations. It’s a sight that almost makes Hyukjae’s heart stop. But he keeps kissing the area around his fading bitemark, his tongue drawing lazy circles around the actual bruise. Each time he does, the fingers clutching at his shoulders dig in a little deeper and Hyukjae thinks it’s worth the momentary pain he feels to hear Sungmin moan like that. Each little shaky gasp of breath, every exhalation Sungmin makes plays on his fevered brain, and he has to resist the urge to claim, to re-mark the skin he has already bruised, to fuck Sungmin right away.

“Hyukjae.” This time, Sungmin sounds irritated. “If you don’t stop that soon, I’m going to… I’m going to make sure you get… Mmf. Hyukkie _please_. Stop teasing me like this. You… when I’m through with you Hyukkie, you won’t be able to walk properly for days, I promise.”

The threat, and the knowledge that Sungmin could very easily carry it out just sends another jolt of arousal through Hyukjae. But he can’t stop. Not now, because Sungmin is beautiful like this, and because he has to make up for the way he’s treated Sungmin so roughly, damaging him with the odd angles of his body. More than that, though, he’s addicted by the way Sungmin moves underneath him, bucking up against Hyukjae’s body as he makes a futile effort to kiss the mark away.

“Killing me…” Sungmin is murmuring. “Hyukkie, you’re going to kill me like this.”

Hyukjae stops what he’s doing. Lifts his head and catches Sungmin’s dark eyes.

“Fair is fair, Min.” He says, gulping at the way Sungmin is looking at him; as though he’d like to devour Hyukjae. He’s so beautiful. “You kill me everyday.”

Faster than Hyukjae realises, Sungmin reaches down and cups Hyukjae’s chin in his hand, grasping it firmly. It’s not enough to hurt, though. There’s just enough pressure for Sungmin to make sure Hyukjae does as he’s told. He tugs gently, and Hyukjae almost springs up Sungmin’s prone body. They kiss messily, hungrily, and Sungmin is _growling_ into Hyukjae’s mouth as his tongue sweeps in and finds Hyukjae’s. It’s possessive and primal, and Hyukjae feels like the growing warmth in his chest is about to burst into flames. He gets lost in the taste of his lover; licks and bites at Sungmin’s lips as Sungmin rolls them so he’s on top and Hyukjae is the one being pressed into the mattress.

“Fuck, Min!”

A raised eyebrow and Sungmin is tracing delicate patterns on Hyukjae’s chest, as though he’s planning a design for a tattoo he’d like to have. Slowly, deliberately, he traces a finger down Hyukjae’s chest.Then he giggles, much to Hyukjae’s confusion.

“You know how I said if you didn’t stop, I was going to make sure you wouldn’t be able to walk right?”

Hyukjae nods mutely. Tries to get the image of Sungmin tying him down and fucking him roughly out of his head. He licks his lips nervously.

Sungmin’s eyes gleam.

“You didn’t stop, Hyukkie.”

The next thing he knows, Sungmin has pinned his hands down on either side of his head. And there’s that growl again, the one that turns Hyukjae’s insides wobbly because it’s the growl that Sungmin uses whenever he’s about to have his way with Hyukjae, fuck the consequences. By the possessive look in his eyes, too, Hyukjae knows Sungmin isn’t going to be nice about things.

Sungmin leans down, presses their bodies together, and Hyukjae tries to stifle a moan unsuccessfully as Sungmin kisses a slow trail down his neck to the base of his throat. He licks at the sweat there, and Hyukjae tries to wrest himself free, already over-stimulated by the feel of Sungmin’s skin against his and the memory of Sungmin helpless under his mouth.

People always forget just how strong Sungmin can be. They only see his sweet face and wide, innocent-looking eyes and conveniently don’t remember all his martial arts training, or his punishing gym routines, preferring to think of him as harmless and placid and cute. Hyukjae knows what a dangerous misconception this can be. Sungmin holds Hyukjae down with minimal effort, looking amused at the way he twists in his grasp, then rocks his hips against Hyukjae’s. Their cocks rub together, all slick heated flesh, and Hyukjae whines, surprising himself at how badly he wants this.

“I warned you, Hyukkie.” Sungmin’s smile is vicious. “But you didn’t listen.”

He grinds his hips down again and Hyukjae arches off the bed, desperate for more friction. Sungmin kisses him, ruthless and insistent, and Hyukjae tries not to beg for more, please more, because it feels like he’s burning up from the inside out. They rut like teenagers, Sungmin’s fingers curling into Hyukjae’s wrists, pressing down, and Hyukjae knows that there will be bruises on his body tomorrow where Sungmin has touched him. The thought of it only adds to the growing tide of pleasure that is threatening to overwhelm him.

“Want you,” Hyukjae gasps. It turns into a high-pitched yelp as Sungmin nips at his collarbone. “Oh, God, Min. Don’t…”

“Don’t?” There is a tinge of laughter in Sungmin’s voice, and he thrusts down against Hyukjae particularly roughly. “I’m in charge now, Hyukkie. And you made me wait much too long.”

Hyukjae tries to remember how to breathe, and then Sungmin is stealing the breath from his body as their lips meet again.

They’re both so close already it doesn’t take much longer. Hyukjae feels his orgasm bearing down upon him like a tidal wave, and it’s all he can do not to be sucked under. He tries to meet Sungmin’s eyes as he comes, but it’s too much, and he bucks up against Sungmin one last time, his lover’s name spilling from his lips as Sungmin gasps and rocks against him, their seed mingling and covering their bellies.

After a long moment, Sungmin finally lets go of Hyukjae’s wrists. He takes one hand gently in his hands, presses a kiss to the bruised skin there.

“Now we’re even,” he says softly, voice gentle.

Sungmin pushes their hands together and Hyukjae thinks again of sharp angles and softness and the colour of faded bruises. He’s about to say something (he’s not sure what), but Sungmin shushes him before he can start.

“Shh. We fit, Hyukkie, don’t you see? We fit together.”

Hyukjae doesn’t argue.


End file.
